


And The Clock Strikes 12

by Indelible_Faith (TheWaterGoddess)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Burglary, Case Fic, Casual Use of Magic, Cinderella Elements, Established Relationship, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Farmers au, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Mystery, Phandom Reverse Bang 2020, Pumpkin Growers AU, some detective work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaterGoddess/pseuds/Indelible_Faith
Summary: Pumpkins were the weirdest fruit to ever have been used in magical spells, but one couldn't deny it got you results.Or, Dan and Phil run a fairly successful business growing pumpkins, the least magical activity ever to have been performed, yet still manage to entangle themselves in all the local neighbourhood drama.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Jamie Jo Burns/Tom Burns
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5
Collections: Phandom Reverse Bang 2020





	And The Clock Strikes 12

**Author's Note:**

> Weird nonsensical magic, coz I make the rules. 
> 
> Thanks to my Beta reader [FieryDemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryDemon) for going through this fic!
> 
> And credits to [Onyx_Stardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyx_Stardust) for the wonderful art!!! Check out her tumblr [holyjesusonatricycle](https://holyjesusonatricycle.tumblr.com)

At night, the fields were always silent. Eerily so. Yet if one were to walk down the road to the farm, there would be lanterns lit up on either side of the path leading to the shop, the storefront well-lit and stockpiled with jars and bottles. 

Behind it, the cottage would be dark and further on, the orchards even darker. Perhaps under the moonlight, a lone scarecrow, lopsided and worn down, would stand out. But that's it – that's all that the Oxin’s Orchards had to show for, despite its infamy. 

And such infamy! Each night, without fail, there would be a slow yet steady stream of customers that staggered down the beaten down path to the store.

"One – _hic_ – one jar of pickled plum. I mean – _hic_ – pumpkin plum – _hic_ – no, pickled pumpkin in plum. Yeah, pickled pumpkin in –"

Dan sighed, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. "Do you have a prescription for that?"

The drunk man pondered about it for a long minute then started rummaging around in his cloak for it. Dan looked behind him to see another customer approaching and gestured him to a side. This one thankfully simply pushed forward her prescription, which he checked, brought out the required items and accepted the payment.

"Look mate," said the drunkard after a while of fruitless search, "can't find – _hic_ – can't find it right now. Can't ya give it to me? I'm paying, I am."

Dan raised an eyebrow and jerked his head to the signboard above the counter. _No prescription, no pumpkin_.

The man squinted at it, looked down to glare at Dan once more and then turned around to walk away, cursing. 

"At least he left without a fuss," said Phil, melting out from the shadows, a pitchfork over his shoulder. One second there had been pitch blackness under the eaves of the counter, and in the next a long lanky man stood underneath it.

Dan barely suppressed a flinch. "Warning, mate, before you scare the living daylights out of me!"

"I'd make a joke about it being night already," Phil yawned, "but I'm knackered. A couple gourds were trying to crawl over to the normal patch. I plucked them out and planted them a bit further in."

"Cool, you want me to set up a barrier?"

"Nah, it'll keep." And with that, Phil waved over his shoulder and made his way to the cottage. A light flickered on on the first floor a while later. Dan watched him from the back door window, before turning back to the shop. The night was still young. 

* * *

When Dan woke up the next morning, the bed beside him was empty, the curtains opened and somewhere on the farm opposite theirs, a rooster was crowing. 

"Ugh." Dan squinted at the clock, 9:45 AM. "Why did I agree to take the night shift yesterday?" 

"Because you hadn't done so since last week and were feeling guilty for ruining _my_ sleep schedule?"

"Shut up, Phil," Dan grumbled, burrowing deeper into the pillow. 

Phil only laughed in response as he walked further into the room. "I _will_ pull you out of bed if you don't get up by ten." 

Dan gave a muffled _okay_ , before poking his head from under the blankets. "Will you feed me breakfast if I do?"

"Sure!" Said Phil brightly, "We have pumpkin pie from last night and pumpkin spiced latte if you wa–"

"I will _murder_ you." Dan glared. "Tell me our breakfast isn't actually all pumpkin."

Phil grinned. 

About half an hour later when Dan finally wandered downstairs, the breakfast was thankfully french toast and egg sandwiches and what suspiciously looked like eggnog. 

“Are we in a hurry to finish the eggs?”

"Yep," said Phil as he dished out another plate of toast, "unless we want to use them for the shop instead. Then we can let them stay for another fortnight."

Grimacing at the mental image, Dan shook his head. "So, what's the deal? Why are you here instead of the farm?"

Phil gulped down a mouthful of juice – thankfully, not pumpkin – and said, "Sheriff came over at about eight in the morning. Apparently there was a burglary at the vineyard over south."

Dan paused, "The Pentlands? What does that have to do with us? We sell _pumpkins."_

"They didn't go for the barrels though. Said a cauldron from their brewery is gone."

"From the brewery?!" 

Oh, that was _daring_. Most magical families put up wards around their more… otherworldly supplies and stores. Operated their business in covert spaces under strict monitoring. All to make sure that the non-magic folk didn't find out, and to make sure their practices remained secret. 

While the Pentlands' vineyard was distinctly normal, their brewery often contained more than simple vine. For someone to have gotten past the wards and successfully stolen something…

"How did they know?"

Phil shrugged. "Sheriff Burns didn't stop around to chat. Just told me to keep an eye out on our stuff. I double checked the shop's wards after that, and took a round around the field. All's good here."

Dan relaxed. That was good. Not that any thief would get much if they stole from them. They literally just grew pumpkins. And also _pumpkins._ The magical variety, that required some extra nutrients. Their apothecary was also a minor one, only storing certain ingredients and potions. 

No thief would be coming for _their_ little farm.

* * *

"Two bottles of pumpkin seeds and a bottle of pickled lemon," Dan read, checking it off as he pushed them across the counter. Another hand pulled out the register and noted down the prescription. "I'm sure Mrs Jo's already said it, but make sure you grind them to a paste before applying."

"Yep, will do." The woman in front of the counter sighed, "How do you deal with frizzy hair?"

Dan's lips twitched, "I don't command lightning."

"No? Your farms really glows up at night though. Are those talismans or arrays then?"

Dan simply smiled and the lady took it as a cue to gather her supplies. She passed a pouch of gold coins, waiting for Dan to count them and then went off with a grateful thanks. 

It was nearly dawn by then and Dan closed up shop to catch a few hours of sleep before the sun came up. In the last week, following the mysterious burglary, Dan had taken to lighting magical fires and stationing fire golems at the cornerstones of their wards. It was meant to be discreet, he'd taken enough precautions for that. But if it really glowed up – enough for Helen down at the television centre to notice it – they'd have to find different protective measures. 

"Or maybe we can stop," suggested Phil as they piled up pumpkins into their grocery truck. 

"And be caught off guard if they decide to rob us?" Dan dragged a wicker basket full of pumpkins across the ground, stumbling every now and then over a root. "No thanks, I'm paranoid and you can't dissuade me." 

"Okay, okay," Phil laughed. "Here, this one's mushy. Also, maybe it has a worm."

"Ew, gross." Dan put that one in the basket too. "If that's all, I'll go replant them in the darker yard."

The darker yard was where the magical pumpkins grew. Most of them were grown from magical seeds of course, but then there would be the odd ones. The ones that they converted by replanting some of the spoilt normal batch of gourds in magical soil and fed magical nutrients. A little recycling never harmed nobody – all they had to make sure was to use it for the less potent prescriptions, since their effect wasn't quite at the level of the purebred ones. 

Dan never thought he'd have to employ so much botanical knowledge for a work that was basically digging, sowing and harvesting – but say that to delusional teenage Dan, who thought farm life would be the simple life. 

"What was the price last week?"

Dan snorted, "My mind is running on gold operated business since the past few nights, don't ask me. Just see what the others are charging and adjust?"

"You're no help!"

"Oi! Who do you think is dragging these metric tonnes of pumpkins to replant?"

"Oh, you wanna switch?"

And that was that. 

"Why not," Dan said, letting go of the basket and stalking towards the driver's seat, “Besides, if I leave the car to you, it will come back with scrapes and dents." 

"Hey!"

"Keys?"

Dan caught them with ease as it was thrown towards him, watching with a smirk as Phil sized up the pumpkin haul. And then to his utter disbelief, with one hand hooked under the bottom and one over the lid, Phil lifted it up with such ease that it was almost insulting. 

"How in nine levels of hell –"

Phil winked, "Get going, grocery lad. You have a market to reach to."

"You – I will figure out how you did that – wait for it, I will!" Dan turned on the ignition and the truck rumbled to life, "Figure out an array after you're done replanting. Phil! Did you hear me? An array!"

Phil waved a hand as he walked off.

* * *

Farmer's market was a very apt term for the hustle bustle that was Wednesday evening. It was crowded and cramped and loud and Dan never truly knew how many people lived in a tiny town until he saw all of them out and about in the short period of a Wednesday evening. 

Since the grocery truck had broken down twice on the way to the market – fixed both times with a spark of magic instead of a mechanic – most of the stalls were already occupied. He parked the truck at the corner of the field along with the other vehicles and almost immediately a coolie ran up to him. 

"Five pounds per basket, sir, what do you say?" 

"Uhh," Dan blinked, "I'm not paying for the baskets."

The boy blinked back in surprise, "How will ya carry it to the stall then?"

That. That was a very good question. "Shit. I knew I was forgetting something."

The coolie looked amused and exasperated at the same time. Dan had not come here to be judged. "Okay, how about you bring a large cloth that we can bundle up pumpkins in."

"I ain't paying for the cloth either, sir."

"Let's make it five pounds per crate then, shall we?"

"Louise!" Dan whipped his head around to see her grin and point towards her truck parked a little ways away. 

"Hey, Dan. I've got extra crates, come along. You can set up with me as well." 

"You're a lifesaver!"

It was as they were packing up for the night that he finally remembered to ask about the break in. 

"How's the brewery?"

"Heavily fortified and under a brand new set of wards," Louise said as she sealed up a crate. "This one's for you, by the way."

"Louise, I'm _broke._ "

"Shush, no you're not, your apothecary runs as well as Cat's. And you've not bought any in the last three months."

"We don't gulp down wine with every meal you know," said Dan as he dutifully exchanged the crate for a few notes. “It takes longer to go through a crate.”

"It's four bottles, please. Anyway, so we called over a ward master from the town over yonder – Sheriff Burns recommended someone. They had a robbery last year too and it's made everyone more vigilant."

Dan gave a general hum of acknowledgement as he used the last few crates to pack the leftover pumpkins. 

"But I don't even see the point – what was the use of a cauldron? They could've come and bought one, or customised one with the blacksmith. They can't be too poor – no one that broke steals a pot over food.”

“Was it golden?”

“What, the cauldron?” Louise shook her head, “Plain ol’ pewter, had some runes underneath it I think – but still, why go to all that trouble for one cauldron?”

Dan agreed to that and spent the whole ride back mulling over it – were the runes the reason for the robbery? Why would someone need a specific cauldron of that sort, what for? As the shadows began to creep up, Dan slowed down. In the distance, he could see Phil had installed some sort of array – purely because of the complete pitch-black appearance of the farm. Even the lanterns leading up to their little apothecary couldn’t be seen. 

Then, as he crossed an invisible boundary, the lights flickered on again. And beside Dan, the passenger seat of the grocery truck was empty one second and in the next, occupied.

“Shit!” Dan seared the steering wheel automatically, pulling his hands away as they burnt hot, “Phil – you – how many times do I tell you not to do that!”

Phil leaned against the open window, laughing. “Did you really not expect it? It’s dark enough.”

Dan snorted, “As if I ever expect it. Besides, I was busy thinking about Louise’s case.”

“Ah, did the Sheriff find any leads?”

“Nope. They ended up calling a ward master.”

Phil hummed thoughtfully at that, peering at the fence that lined their fields. “Do you think we need that sort of protection?”

A field of pumpkins stretched out ahead of them, silent as a graveyard and as dark as one. Phil’s magic had woven around every nook and cranny of the land, and unlike Dan’s brightly coloured fiery lights, his powers submerged the place in darkness. A thief would have a tough time finding their farm, let alone stealing from it. 

“No,” Dan smiled, “I think we’re good.”

* * *

And despite their self-assurances, a fortnight later, an entire row of pumpkins was gone.

Phil was dismayed, “What does that thief even want?!”

Dan pinched his brows as he felt at the earth, looking for traces of magic. The fact that the thief had stolen from the darker patch was telling – someone was targeting magical goods. But for what, and why? 

Phil was literally and figuratively tearing his hair out, obviously upset that his wards had been breached. The Sheriff had yet to be called; for, in all honesty, neither of them could figure out why _pumpkins_ of all things were stolen. 

“You closed shop at 3:30 AM this morning,” Dan said after a while, “and I came out to inspect the fields at 6 AM. That’s less than a three hour window period.”

Phil paused his pacing, “You think it’s someone from the town?”

“Who else knows the timings so well?”

“You think it’s one of our _customers?_ ”

Dan nodded. “I don’t have a specific guess and no one is striking out in my mind right now, but seems feasible, doesn’t it?”

Phil groaned, “I don’t like how this day started.” Then, resigned, “I’ll call Sheriff Burns.”

The Sheriff asked for their records book, concurring with their theory that it could be a visitor to the apothecary.

“If you’ve had these wards up for the past two weeks, then someone might have been lurking around to see when they go up and what weak points it may have. Do you personally put them up or take them down?”

“It doesn’t exactly prevent people from entering,” Phil said, “just cloaks the field. It’s like a perimeter alarm, I would know if someone entered through it when it’s up.”

“And it’s there all day long?”

“Ah… not quite, it’s there all _night_ long.”

Sheriff Burns blinked. “Huh?”

“From sunset to sunrise, so no specific timing really – but Dan was up by sunrise this morning!”

Dan shook his head, “When I woke, the sun was already up.”

That narrowed the window period further. The Sheriff also took a look at the field, but came up with nothing. “Clean work, this thief does.”

“Pretty sure you ain’t meant to sound admiring there, Chief.” 

Dan ended up going to the station to write out a formal report, which gave him a chance to ask about Louise’s incident. 

“Would you say they’re the same person?”

“At this point, I doubt there’s more than one thief roaming about with the same polished tricks in going through wards and nicking things as this one. So I’ll wager yes.” The Sheriff sighed, “I’m going to have to issue a proper warning around town now – but they’ve gone only for small things so far. Not sure how seriously people will take it.”

Dan privately thought that if it hadn’t been the Sheriff’s duty, he wouldn’t take it quite as seriously either. Besides, _two_ entire rows of magical pumpkins? It wasn't a small thing as far as Dan was concerned. That was nearly four weeks of nutrients and bottles worth of medicines gone. It was a pity one couldn't insure vegetables against theft. 

Mrs Jo, the Sheriff’s wife, poked her head in with tea and biscuits sometime in the middle, complained about the rat infestation at the station, offered to enchant a stranger-attacking broom for them that Dan hastily refused, and bid them farewell cheerfully promising to help find the thief soon.

“Jamie, no,” the Sheriff protested at that last declaration, but his wife ignored him, pecked him on the cheek once and left. “She’s good friends with Mrs Pentland,” he said, “so she’s been quite proactive in making intruder-alert talismans and the works.”

Dan thanked him for his hard work as he left, wondering what measures they could take on their own.

“None,” said Phil when Dan brought it up later, “I don’t think warding this place any better than we already have could do anything more right now. Besides, what’s that thing people say? Thieves rarely target the same place twice.”

* * *

Being stolen from isn’t the best feeling in the world, so naturally, spirits were slightly subdued for the next few days. Dan and Phil obsessively watched over their farm, two layers of wards settling over them – the fiery golems conjured by Dan making their return and the invisible perimeter of shadows that Phil created renewed. 

They had also gone over every other ingredient they had, checking the quantity in their stores with their records to make sure nothing else was missing. 

“One crate of lemon rinds in vinegar,” Dan read out, “should be in 50 ml bottles.”

“Check.”

“Two mini boxes of saffron, two mini boxes of ginger roots, one jar of foxglove extract.”

“Check, check and check.”

“That’s all of them,” said Dan, closing the accounting books and stretching his arms as Phil climbed down the ladder. “We should give the store a dusting, I can see a spider web forming in that corner.”

Phil shuddered, “Don’t point it out! You weren't the one up and close with it just now.” He dragged the ladder to the corner, propping it behind the door. “Also, we need more pitted cherries, we’re nearly out of them.”

"That's because you keep putting them in pies and pancakes!"

Phil only grinned in response.

“I’ll place the order tonight,” Dan said, shaking his head, debating whether he should just place a larger order than usual, for the store and the kitchen. _We run out of fruits the fastest, and pineapple is the first to go. Probably should ask the orchards if they have more rotten apples to give us too, or lychee skins and pickled plums._

“You know, I keep thinking about it,” Dan said as they walked back to the house.

Phil made a concerned noise.

“How did they get past your ward?”

“Well, it doesn’t last after sunrise –”

“No, no,” Dan waved a dismissive hand at him, “not that. I mean, how did they know?”

“What the ward does? That is… yeah, how would anyone know?” Phil narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Then, “You know, there’s another thing. Louise’s wards aren’t shabby either; it’s been there since generations and I doubt anyone could get past them. But…”

“But?”

Phil looked at him, “But, I bet _I_ could.”

Dan halted. “What do you mean?” 

But even as Dan asked, he could see where this was going. Phil commanded the shadows, which often meant that boundaries didn’t exactly work for him as it did for others. He could slip into one darkened hallway and emerge from another, close his eyes in one room and peek into a different one – as long as there was a shadowed corner, Phil could be there. 

Of course, one could ward areas against shadow magicians, but with how rare of a magical ability it was, warding against them was more often than not, redundant. 

“Elemental magics are more common.”

“They are,” Phil agreed, “but it explains why the thief knew to wait for sunrise – if they know shadow magic, they could probably sense it and knew they would be caught if they wandered past the ward.”

 _True_ , Dan thought, _and meanwhile, all the burglar needed to do to steel from the Pentland’s inventory is to slip into a shadow, grab a cauldron and vanish the same way_ –

“Wait! That’s how you picked up that basket!”

“Huh?”

Dan pointed accusingly at him, “That day, you held up the basket’s shadow didn’t you? Of course, there’s no sudden improvement in muscle power – how could there be?” He poked at Phil’s unfairly still-stupidly good-looking arm and Phil dodged, laughing. “Get back here, you! Here I was wondering how you suddenly turned into Superman, but you were cheating!”

Phil was half-walking half-running now, “There were no rules for that! Are you mad you can’t just burn things to crisp to make them lighter?”

Twin flames appeared in Dan’s palms. “Oh, I’ll show you _lighter._ Come back – don’t you disappear in a shadow now – come here!”

* * *

Mrs Sophie Newton drove her truck down to their farm a week later with the supplies and helpfully lended an arm to unload the goods.

“There you have it,” she said as the final was opened and checked, “pickled, salted and starched and what not. You’re my only other customer buying rotten apples you know, apart from Mrs Jo, that is.” She shook her head ruefully, “I almost feel like I shouldn’t be charging you for it.”

“Nonsense,” said Dan, “they’re a legitimate goods, and I’m not letting you take any prescription free of charge if it includes apples.”

Sophie laughed, “Alright then. Good ward work by the way.”

Dan grinned sharply, “We’ve stepped up – I assume everyone’s heard of it by now?”

She shrugged her shoulders in a ‘what can you do?' gesture.

“If it wasn’t the Sheriff, then it’d be Louise,” said Phil, coming back with an all-clear regarding the supplies. “All in order, Sophie, you’re the best.”

“Quite right! Don’t you go switching suppliers now.” She accepted the payment, counting quickly, “Also, yep, it was Louise. She’s been urging people to take better care – I can sympathise, the poor dear. A cauldron is more of a loss than some fruits from my orchard though. Plus, kids always go running through them.”

“Can’t always keep those out,” Dan agreed.

“Exactly – I mean, lord knows how many times I’ve told them or their parents, but kids will be kids. Why, I've had a few naughty ones pluck out some ripe plums just this week!”

Phil made a commiserating noise and waved her off, telling her to take good care of her plum trees.

“Well, let’s go then – I think we can start brewing some of the time-taking potions now… Dan? Are you there – Dan?”

Dan snapped his gaze away from the road Mrs Newton had driven down.

“Phil – I just – it’s harebrained and crazy, but humor me, will you?”

Phil blinked. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes, just – just listen – she said something and it struck me – do you remember, a month or so ago? Someone had come asking for a potion without a prescription.”

“There’s always a few people like that.”

“No – I mean, _yes_ , but this one was different. He asked for pickled pumpkin plum – no wait, uh…”

“Pickled pumpkin in plum?”

“Yes!” Dan smacked his hand, “See, you remember it too!”

“Well, it is an unusual potion…”

“Exactly – I didn't know what it was, we didn't even have it in stock. Even if he had a prescription, I would have called him back later to pick it up. Anyway, not the point. I checked it up – it’s less of a potion and more of an enchantment in liquid form.”

Phil held up a hand to stop him, “Okay, I need to sit down for this.”

“Phil, wait, it’s important – this can be crucial information.”

“I know,” said Phil, cupping a hand under his elbow and guiding him back on the path, “and that’s why, I need to sit down. Also, we need to pull out our recipe book.”

When they were back home, esconced in the brewery in their basement, a thick and fraying book of recipes in hand, Phil got more of an idea as to why it was such an unknown potion. It wasn’t listed under the _Pumpkin Potions_ page they constantly referred to, but under the _Godmother’s Drinks_ chapter heading. 

“This is literally out of a fairy tale,” said Phil in disbelief as he read through the effects.

“I know! I thought he must have said it wrong, he was drunk after all – so I didn't pay it much attention… but think about it. It’s a restricted potion, its use is carefully monitored and making it is no easy feat – why, the boiling time itself is nine days!”

“And the Newton's plum trees were stolen from, just last week…”

Dan nodded, “That’s nearly all the important ingredients, isn’t it? A cauldron to brew it in, pumpkins from our patch and plums from the Newton's orchard.”

“But wait,” said Phil, “this is a Godmother’s Drink – Midnight Magic – that means, it’s that one isn’t it? The enchantment that lasts till 12 pm? Unrestricted entry, like from the fairy tale – in a disguise no one will recognise, free to go to places barred to you and then when the clock strikes 12, the enchantment ends. The carriage turns back to a pumpkin, the foot soldiers are mice again, the horse is a dog and all that.” Phil turned to Dan, “That makes no sense – if he’s been stealing all this time, and if he’s a shadow user like we thought, then he shouldn’t need this potion in the first place!”

Dan pondered about that. “Yeah, that’s true – but from another angle, what place would a shadow user want to steal from that would keep them away?”

 _...heavily fortified and warded_ – _brought a ward master from the next village over, Sheriff Burn’s recommendation_ – _they’d had a robbery last year…_

Dan’s eyes widened, “The Sheriff’s office!”

Phil caught on immediately, “Not the underground vaults! Someone would have to be mad to steal that, it’s cloaked in all sorts of… enchantments… oh no!”

Dan ran up the stairs, “I’ll ring the Sheriff!”

Phil hastily shut the book, locking the door as he followed. “We have no proof, it’s all conjectures!”

"We have to still let them know!"

But it was no use. The phone rang and rang, however it was much too late for anyone to be in the office to pick up. “Who do we know that has their personal number?”

“Dan, listen, even if we tell them now – how sure are we of this?”

“We have to try! I’m not letting that pumpkin thief get away with this – the Sheriff may be great at magical combat, but even he’ll be blindsided if none of the wards alert him!”

Phil watched Dan panic and sighed. “You’re right. Okay, let’s not waste time then.” 

He beckoned Dan towards him and realising what he meant, Dan walked forward and carefully placed his arms around Phil’s shoulders. Phil’s came around Dan’s back till they were almost hugging.

“I really don’t like this method of traveling.”

Phil only grinned as the shadows slowly swallowed them up. “I’m going real slow. You can hold tighter if you want.”

“I will seriously throw up on you if I do, shut up.”

Once they were completely enveloped in shadows, Dan felt a tugging sensation and then all too soon his body _moved_ – too fast for him to remember ever starting, too abruptly to realise they’d stopped. His knees buckled.

“Dizzy,” he slurred.

“I’ve got you.”

They had emerged in the corner of the street, a stone’s throw away from the Sheriff’s office. In the distance, a lantern glowed and a little further away a beautiful cottage was awash in darkness. Dan blinked up to see the moon, nearly full and glowing.

“Let’s go.”

Phil had pulled back all the shadows and was staring at the office weirdly.

“Phi?”

“Something’s not right. I can… I can sense the office! There are two people inside already…”

 _The wards were down?_ That wasn’t what the potion did – why would someone bring the wards down?

They glanced at each other and having reached similar conclusions, raced towards the office. The wards weren’t down, Dan realised as they passed through the gateway – they’d been tripped! It was radiating an alarm that it had been breached, which again _shouldn’t have happened._

Dan came to a sudden stop as he reached the main room. Mrs Jo was dragging an unconscious man out of the back room, her hands around his socked feet. She looked up as they entered, relieved.

“Ah, so you realised it as well?”

Phil jolted from where he'd frozen, holding up the arms as she held his legs and together they put him up on the couch.

“There’s spare rope in one of the drawers,” she said, “help me tie him up?”

“Sure,” said Dan woodenly, completely unsure of what was going on. Then, “How did he get knocked out?”

Mrs Jo grinned, “I’ve got a very handy broom and no shortage of spells in an emergency. How did _you_ know?”

Dan explained his reasonings and their fear that if the thief had gotten all the ingredients a week ago, then they might strike soon. “We wanted to call you, but we didn’t have your number, so –”

“Oh gosh, that’s great! I pieced the clues together a little more easily of course,” she smirked, “I'd be a poor enchantress if I couldn’t figure out an enchantment when it stared me in the face. I was following Tom’s case real carefully, so I placed one of my own charms around the vault if he managed to get that far.”

She gestured at his feet. Dan blinked stupidly before he remembered – _his shoes!_

“The single counter to the Midnight Magic Enchantment, it’s Achilles Heel in a sense,” said Mr Jo triumphantly, “is that it is dispelled once you remove the person’s footwear.”

The Sheriff stumbled in right then, looking as if he’d only just rolled out of bed. “Jamie! What – I felt the wards trip – oh my goodness! There’s a man on the couch!” He shook his head, “Why is he trussed up?”

Jamie laughed, “Dear, you need to wake up.”

* * *

The Sheriff thanked them for their help in the morning, paying them a visit and delivering some of Mrs Jo’s best pies as thanks.

“We’ll accept the pies,” said Phil, “but really, we weren’t much of a help. Mrs Jo had it all in hand.”

“Yes,” Dan agreed, “and it really wouldn’t have struck me if he’d not wandered down to our apothecary asking if he had that potion.”

“He must have been well and truly drunk to go about asking for it so plainly,” the Sheriff said, “that was a turn of good fortune.” He shook their hands once more, gave another round of thanks all around, before finally leaving.

“I definitely didn’t think farm life would be so interesting when I took it up,” Dan said as the Sheriff left. “This thief’s given me way too much excitement for a lifetime.”

Phil laughed, “Do you want mundane, Dan? We still have to repair that one lopsided scarecrow in the pumpkin patch – I think it’s been mock sword fighting with the one planted in the darker patch at night.”

Dan groaned. “I take it back! Let’s have another robbery – anything but scarecrow mending!”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know how you liked it!!  
> Validation is the fuel for more writing - I _crave_ it :P


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